He Remembers Me
by fallingwthstyle
Summary: After an accident that puts him in a coma, Kyle awakens with no memory of Kenny. Written for a prompt/fic request on tumblr.
1. Chapter 1 - JULY 24th

The speeding car came out of nowhere, crashed through the hedge with a horrendous sound as its muffler slammed into the curb with a shower of sparks and continued at high speed across the well-manicured lawn.

Stan and Kenny barely threw themselves out of the way in time to avoid being hit. Kyle wasn't so lucky; the car hit him head on and he flew through the air, landing in a crumpled heap in the front yard of Clyde's house twenty feet away.

 _"Kyle!"_ Stan shrieked, jumping to his feet and taking a step to run toward his fallen friend. Kenny grabbed his arm and held him back.

"Stan...let me go, okay?" Kyle wasn't moving _at all_ (although the car had finally come to a stop, steam rising from under the hood; whoever had been driving it was slumped over the steering wheel). Kenny had seen death enough times that he was certain he was about to see it now, in one of his best friends. He knew Stan wouldn't be able to handle this.

Stan's face was ashen, and Kenny left him to hurry over to Kyle. He expected to find him lying dead, but what he saw was just as frightening: Kyle was alive and his eyes were aware as they met Kenny's, and there was blood, way too much blood, under his head and staining the grass.

"Someone call 9-1-1!" Stan screamed; Kenny looked around and saw at least two people already were. Clyde's dad had opened his front door holding a phone to his ear, and Butters was already shouting into his phone. He looked back down at Kyle, who was trying to sit up.

"No, Kyle," Kenny said, carefully holding him down with a hand on his shoulder. "Don't try to get up. Help is coming." He could already hear sirens approaching. "Just lie still."

Stan joined him, kneeling on the grass on the other side of Kyle's head. "You're going to be okay, Kyle." He was crying as he and Kenny's eyes met, and Kenny almost wished Stan wouldn't promise something he wasn't sure was true.


	2. Chapter 2 - AUGUST 12th

"He's awake."

Kenny stared at his phone, taking in what Stan had just said. After almost three weeks of afternoon visits to Kyle's hospital room where all hope that he'd ever come out of a coma seemed lost, Stan had just said the words Kenny had been longing to hear since that awful day.

 _"What?"_ Kenny replied, wondering if he had somehow heard Stan wrong. Stan's call had awakened him from an afternoon nap filled with unsettling nightmares.

He couldn't blame Mr Tuong Lu Kim for what happened; he had had a heart attack while driving home from his restaurant and his foot had gotten stuck on the accelerator of his car when he died. Kenny was grateful for the job he had given him when he was ten and gentrification was first coming to their town. He couldn't blame the nice old man for what happened seven years later. Shit happens, and life goes on anyway. Kenny had learned that a long time ago.

"He woke up today!" Stan said. "His mom said he asked where I was!"

Kenny winced, remembering when he wondered the same thing when he was dying of muscular dystrophy and Stan was nowhere around. He stood up and said the first thing that came to mind.

"I'll be there in fifteen minutes."

"I'll probably see you there then."

They said their goodbyes and Kenny ended the call. He pulled on the first pair of reasonably clean jeans, shirt and socks he found from the pile on the floor and ran out the door of his house, running all the way to Hell's Pass Hospital in only nine minutes. Stan was just outside the main entrance, chaining the front wheel of his bicycle to the bike rack.

"Hey Kenny! You sure got here fast."

Kenny grinned. "I ran all the way." His smile faded as he became serious again. "So...he finally woke up? Thank God; I hope he's all right."

"His mom told me he was talking normally, and was asking for something to eat. I can't wait to see him."

"Me too." They walked into the hospital together and rode the elevator to the fourth floor. Room 407, where Kyle had been for almost three weeks was right across the hall and they walked into the room together.

"Hey Stan!" Kyle said, sitting up in his hospital bed. His voice was weak but obviously happy to see him; there was a bandage circling his head that ended just above his eyebrows.

"Kyle!" Stan replied happily, hurrying over to stand next to the bed, Kenny one step behind him. Kenny was thrilled to see him sitting up and talking, after seeing him lying motionless like a wax statue every day since the accident. "It's really good to see you awake, dude!"

"It's good to be awake." His eyes shifted from Stan to Kenny. "Who's that?"

Stan's eyes widened. "Dude! That's _Kenny!"_

Kyle cocked his head, appearing confused. "Who's Kenny?"

"You don't remember him, Kyle?" Stan's voice was incredulous. He turned his head to look at Kenny, whose eyes were filled with hurt and sadness. This was much worse than people forgetting about all the times he died. "He's like, one of our best friends."

Kyle shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry...I don't remember him."

"Dude, you've known him since _preschool!_ He..." His voice trailed off.

"It's all right, Stan," Kenny said, but his voice matched the sorrow in his eyes and his shoulders were slumped in defeat.

"Kyle, we did _everything_ together! Don't you remember swimming at Stark's Pond...or camping out with him in my backyard...?"

"I'm the poor kid," Kenny put in. "Cartman always rags on me about that; and I have a little sister, Karen? And a brother named Kevin...?"

Kyle's face grimaced in distaste. "Well, I remember Cartman. But...I'm sorry dude; I don't remember you."

"He was Iron Man that one Halloween, when my dad made me work at Blockbuster and you took me trick or treating on FaceTime," Stan said desperately. "He..." Yet several more attempts to jog Kyle's memory only resulted in him looking even more confused.

"I'm sorry, dude," Kyle finally said. "I don't remember you. The doctors told me this might happen, that I might forget things, even things that were important to me. I'd, um, like to get to know you all over again though."


	3. Chapter 3 - AUGUST 17th

"I get to go home tomorrow," Kyle said happily when Stan and Kenny walked into Kyle's room that afternoon. "I'll spend another couple weeks recovering at home, and then I should be ready to go back to school for the first day of senior year."

"That's great, Kyle!" Stan replied as he and Kenny pulled up chairs and sat down next to the hospital bed. "I bet you can't wait to get out of here."

"No, I can't. I'll get to have some real food again. I miss my mom's cooking."

They talked for a few minutes, and then Stan said, "Hey guys, it's really hot outside today and I'm kind of thirsty. I'm gonna run down to the cafeteria and get something to drink. Kenny, do you want anything?"

Kenny was thirsty as well after his walk from his house to Hell's Pass. "A coke would be awesome, Stan. Thanks."

Stan nodded, stood up, and left the room. Kenny pulled his chair closer to the bed.

"I'm sorry I still don't remember you dude," Kyle said. "But I believe you guys when you told me we were good friends. I mean, you're a really nice guy, and if it means anything I'm looking forward to being friends again."

Kenny smiled; he'd come to terms with Kyle's selective amnesia about him. "It's all right, Kyle. And yeah, I am too."

Stan returned a few minutes later carrying two cups with straws sticking out from their lids. Kenny took several swallows of his coke, grateful for the cold drink after his walk in the summer heat.

"So anyway," Stan said. "A couple of the guys wanted to have a 'welcome home' party for you when you finally got out of here; but your mom said you needed your rest and said no to that. So it'll have to wait a few days."

"That's just as well," Kyle replied. "She's probably right. I don't think I'll be up to partying anytime soon."

They talked into the afternoon. Stan told him about Cartman's latest 'business venture'. Kenny was laughing by the time Stan said, "Let's just say that his sales haven't exactly been what he was hoping for."

"When does anything go the way he wants it do, though?" Kenny asked. "I mean, what they say is true: Karma really is a bitch, and if he thinks-"

Kyle suddenly sat bolt upright. _"Kenny!"_ he said loudly. "I...I remember you! I...oh my God!"

 _He remembers me!_ Kenny thought, happier than he'd felt since Kyle's accident. His joy turned to shock a moment later when Kyle continued.

"I've seen you _die_ , Kenny! Dozens of times! Oh God...you shot yourself in the fucking _head_ twice in Cartman's basement when we were kids playing superheroes. And I saw you get hit by a car, and..."

"Kyle?" Stan's voice was alarmed. "What are you..." He looked anxiously at Kenny. "Maybe I should go get the doctor?"

Kenny quickly said, "No Stan, don't. It's okay..."

"What do you mean it's _okay?_ He's talking nonsense!" Stan jumped to his feet, almost knocking his drink over. "I gotta go-"

"No Stan, don't..." But Stan was already hurrying out the door, and Kenny looked back at Kyle, who was staring at the door askance.

"He doesn't remember any of that, does he?" Kyle asked. His voice was incredulous. "He doesn't remember all the times you...died?"

"No, Kyle." Kenny looked down at the floor. _"No one_ does; or at least no one ever has, until now."

"How can anyone forget something like that?" Kyle replied angrily. "Jesus _Christ_ Ken! You die like every few weeks! You have ever since we were little...and then you come back again, and-" Kyle blinked, looking like he was trying to solve a complicated puzzle. "And no one remembered...not even me."

Kenny reached out and took Kyle's hand, gripping it desperately. "Look, Kyle. I'll try to explain later, okay? Right now...there's going to be a shitstorm in here in about a minute when Stan gets back, unless you can convince them you were wrong. You might not get to go home tomorrow."

Kyle nodded, and they let go of each other's hands at the sound of approaching footsteps in the hallway. Stan walked into the room a moment later, followed by a concerned-looking doctor.

"Hey, doc, I'm all right," Kyle said. "I remembered my friend just now...and then I remembered a dream I had last night where I kept seeing him dying over and over..."

 _Heh,_ Kenny thought, giving Kyle an approving look. _Nice save, dude_.

The doctor sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled a small flashlight from the pocket of his white coat. "Look at me," the doctor said, flicking his light into Kyle's eyes to check his pupils. Seeming satisfied, the doctor put his penlight away and held a finger up in front of Kyle's face. "Follow my finger."

The doctor moved his hand up, down, and to both sides; Kyle submitted to this test, clearly irritated. "Doc, I'm really fine."

"What day is it?" the doctor asked him.

"How should I know?" Kyle replied. "There's no calander in this room, and you guys have my watch and phone. Um, it's Thursday the sixteenth or something."

"Seventeenth," Stan mumbled and the doctor turned at him with a glare.

"Do you know who the President is?" the doctor asked, turning back to Kyle.

"Yeah, of course. Donald Trump, otherwise known as 'Cheeto Hitler'."

The doctor nodded, seeming satisfied by Kyle's responses. "And you don't really believe you've seen your friend die multiple times?"

"Of course not," Kyle replied indignantly. He glanced at Kenny for a moment. "It was just a dream I remembered. I mean...that's ridiculous."

The doctor stood up. "I think he's all right; but I'll check him again in half an hour."

Once the doctor had left the room, Stan sat back down in his chair. "Jesus Kyle, you scared the crap out of me."

"I know. I must have sounded like an idiot. But of course I know I've never really seen Kenny die."

After an awkward minute, they resumed their conversation only now Kenny was included in things Kyle remembered. Half an hour later, "Hey, Kyle, I'm going to get going. I'll see you tomorrow when you get home."

"All right, Stan. I can't wait."

"I'm going to stay a little longer," Kenny said. "Me and Kyle have a lot of catching up to do."

Stan nodded, they said their goodbyes and he left. Once Stan had gone, Kenny got up to close the hospital room door and sat back down.

"Kenny?" Kyle said quietly. "Tell me I'm not going crazy, okay? I really _have_ seen you die lots of times, right?"

Kenny took Kyle's hand again as if it was the most natural thing in the world for him to do. "Uh huh."

"But how? _Why?"_

"Do you remember when we were kids, and that whole 'Cthulhu' thing happened? And you found that picture on the internet of my parents being arrested during a cult meeting?"

"Yes!" Kyle replied. "Cartman made Cthulhu send us to hell, and you killed yourself to get us out of there, right?"

Kennt nodded and told him the story about how he'd somehow inherited his curse because of his parents' desire to get free beer by attending Cult of Cthulhu meetings, years before he'd been born.

"How do you get used to something like that?" Kyle finally asked after Kenny had trailed off into silence.

"I don't. Ever. Dying _sucks_ Kyle. It's scary, and it hurts, every single time it happens." He was staring down at the floor. Kenny felt his hand being squeezed and looked up.

"I'm so sorry, Kenny." His expression was intense. "No one deserves to have to live that way. Least of all you."

Kenny let go of Kyle's hand to wipe tears from his eyes. "Jesus, Kyle. Thank you." Kyle saw that he was barely holding it together and took his hand again.

"It's okay, Kenny. I..." Kenny broke down at that point and started crying. Kyle sat up in bed and pulled on Kenny's arm until he got up and sat down where the doctor had been earlier. Kyle pulled Kenny into a hug and held him until he'd stopped crying, and they sat together afterward, Kyle with his arm around Kenny's shoulder while they talked quietly.

"I wonder _why_ you remember, now of all times," Kenny said.

"Did you know that when they first brought me to the hospital, I flatlined a couple of times and they had to resussitate me? Maybe the fact that _I_ sort of died for awhile has something to do with it?"

Kenny nodded, noticing that they were holding hands again; he couldn't remember when that had happened.

"Maybe it does," he said quietly, giving Kyle's hand a careful squeeze. Kyle lifted their hands so he could brush his lips against Kenny's knuckles.

"Well, at least you don't have to be all alone with it anymore." Kyle's expression was intense; Kenny couldn't look away as Kyle's lips brushed first one knuckle, then another.

"Kyle?" Kenny whispered and their eyes met. They moved toward each other at the same time; their kisses were gentle and chaste at first, then deepened. Kyle finally pulled away, breathing hard.

"You know we can't do anything now, right?"

Kenny nodded, frustrated. "I know. But once you're out of here and got your strength back..."

As the sound of footsteps outside the door, Kenny quickly moved back to his chair. There was a knock on the door.

"Come in," Kyle said, his voice thick. The door opened and a nurse stepped into the room.

"Visiting hours are almost over, boys. So you'll have to leave soon." The last was to Kenny. "Your friend is going home tomorrow!"

"I know," Kenny said, and stood up. He turned to Kyle. "I'll see you tomorrow when you get to your house, dude."

Kyle nodded, his eyes full of promise of things to come.


	4. Chapter 4 - AUGUST 25th

"I think it's time to turn around and go home," Kyle said. He and Kenny were out for one of their daily walks; this time they'd walked all the way to the end of the street. "God, this is frustrating! I should be able to go farther than this."

"You're doing great, Kyle!" Kenny replied. They stopped so Kyle could catch his breath. "Dude, you were in a coma for almost three weeks. Remember the first day we did this? You could barely walk to the end of your driveway. It's going to take some time to get your strength back after that."

"Yeah...I guess." They started walking slowly back toward Kyle's house, where Kenny had been practically living for the past week.

"You know," Kenny said pensively. "I think it's really cool that your parents are okay with...us."

Kyle laughed. "I told you they would be. I think my mom knew I was gay before I did. I'm pretty sure she thought I'd end up with Stan, but he's like my best friend. Being with him seems like it would be kind of weird. And this-" he let his knuckles brush Kenny's once as they walked. "Us together just seems like the most natural thing in the world."

Kenny smiled at that, and they walked the rest of the way back in comfortable silence. Once they were inside Kyle's house, Sheila came out from the kitchen.

"How's our patient doing?" she asked them as they were taking off their shoes beside the front door.

"'Our patient' is a little tired after his walk," Kyle replied. "And could probably use a short nap." He turned to Kenny. "You coming?"

"Of course."

"Dinner's in about an hour boys," Sheila told them, and they made their way upstairs and laid down together in Kyle's bed. Kenny pulled the blanket over them both and they cuddled.

"So," Kyle said after a few minutes. "I have to ask you something kind of important, okay?"

Kenny reached down with one hand to rub slow circles on Kyle's back. "You can ask me anything, dude."

Kyle nodded against Kenny's chest. "Well...I guess that sometime soon, I'm probably going to watch you die in some sort of horrible accident, right?"

Kenny closed his eyes and sighed. "Uh huh. Part of this curse I have seems to be that it happens pretty regularly; like, once every few weeks."

"And when it happens...I should just try to _pretend_ afterward that I'm horrified and sad about it? Because you'll be back in a few days?"

Kenny opened his eyes again and kissed Kyle's forehead. "Usually it's only a day, or sometimes two. But yeah."

"I just hope when it happens that it's not painful...and it's quick."

Kenny swallowed a sudden lump in his throat. "Oh God, Kyle, I love you. As horrible as that sounds, I think that's the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me."

Kyle sat up so he could look Kenny in the eye. "I love you too, Ken."

 **THE END**


End file.
